Some Things Can't Be Fixed
by VictoriaSW
Summary: Victoria has been caught in a world she doesn't want to live in. She's broken. Her father and little sister are gone- it was her fault. What will happen when she meets one of the group? (Set right after season 4.) I don't own The Walking Dead (damn), but Victoria and OCs are mine. Rated T for gore and language. As for pairings, there will be OC/OC and hints of Carol/Daryl :D
1. Chapter 1

Victoria's backpack hung awkwardly from one shoulder. The girl walked along the sidewalk, enjoying the fresh autumn air that now promised the trees that orange leaves would grace them soon. She took an abrupt turn into a lawn, which was spotted with flowers mingling with weeds. There was a small house painted a pale green with white trimmings and a wooden door. Victoria grabbed the handle and turned it, the door opening with a faint creak. She stepped inside the house. The lights were already on, and the living room was a mess. Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Abby!" Victoria called, brushing some hair from her eyes. She noticed a few toys still strewn about the soft brown carpet. Abby always picked up her toys before she went to school.

"Tori!" Abby called as she ran down the hall. Her face was red and she was sweating.

"Abby, what's wrong? Your face is red." Victoria said in a concerned tone, leaning down to be face-to-face with her six year old sister.

"I got sick. No school today- daddy said I could stay home." Abby said softly in her cute little voice.

"Okay Abby," Victoria muttered with her hand on Abby's forehead, "you have a fever. You should go take a nap."

Abby sighed. "Okay Tori. I'm a little tired anyways." Victoria rolled her eyes, a big grin on her face. She hated it when her sister called her Tori, but she put up with it for Abby's sake. After Abby had disappeared down the hall toward her room, Victoria threw her backpack towards the coat hanger. A pile of hoodies spilled across the floor under it, making the coat hanger seem ironic. Victoria rolled her shoulders and turned, starting towards her bedroom door. She surveyed the room, and sat down next to her desk. Her spinning chair let out a small squeak and spun gently. She waited for her navy blue laptop to turn on as she tapped her fingers on the desk.

The laptop turned on in a flourish of lights. Victoria was surprised to find that the internet was already open. A few reports of a virus popped up, along with some very graphic images. Victoria gagged and disregarded them without a second thought. She surfed the internet for a little while, checking her email and researching what to medicine to give to a certain six-year-old with a fever. Ever since her mother had passed, Victoria had been Abby's primary caretaker. Her father took long trips for his work, and left Victoria in charge. Luckily, this week, her father had a few days off. Speaking of her father, where was he?

Victoria closed her laptop and left her room. She crept down the hall quietly and opened the master bedroom. Her father was on his own laptop, looking a bit ill.

"Dad?" Victoria asked. She could tell he didn't feel well. He was pale and shivering. "You okay?"

Her father looked up from his work, eyes bloodshot, "I'm okay. I think Abby got me sick though," he wheezed, breaking off with a long cough.

"You don't look okay. You should get some rest," Victoria said sternly, her words more of a command than a suggestion. Her father nodded and yawned, standing up on quaking legs. Victoria smirked triumphantly and closed the door softly.

She turned around on the heels of her feet, and started walking down the hall toward Abby's room. The door was decorated with unicorn stickers, which glittered pink and purple. Although Victoria wasn't girly and despised pink, she was quite fond of unicorns. The way she saw them, they were just horses with facial weapons, and horses were her passion. She could see herself in a job as an equestrian. Victoria reached for the door, but then a ring blared in her ears. She cursed under her breath, and frantically grabbed for her cell phone. It was in her jean pocket. She answered hurriedly, hoping the ring didn't wake Abby.

"Hello?" she said as she turned quickly and walked into the living room, away from Abby's door.

"Hey Victoria! I was just wondering, have you finished number 20 in the math homework yet? I-uh-can't figure it out and was wondering if you knew the answer." a boy's voice muttered on the other end. Victoria rolled her eyes. Taylor was always bothering her with phone calls like this. Not that he wasn't smart-Taylor was actually quite brilliant. Victoria believed that he called her just to bother her. Her best friends were like that, always goofing off to bother each other. Her friends were very dear to her heart, every single joke making her attached to them even more. But Taylor- there was just something about him that made her want to be with him all the time. He had a light-hearted, kind personality, and was one of her best friends along with Sapheria and Thea.

"Um, actually, I haven't done my homework yet," Victoria laughed. She had a small problem with waiting until the last minute to do assignments. It didn't show though, she was at the top of most of her classes, with Taylor following just behind. Victoria and Taylor had all the same classes at the same time due to some mix-up of the school board. Not that Victoria was complaining.

"Oh, well sorry to bother you then. Oh and um..." Taylor paused, like he wanted to say something. But all that Victoria could hear was music playing in the background. Taylor liked all of the bands from the 80's and 90's, and most of them she'd never even heard of before.

"What?" Victoria asked, a grin spreading across her face. She knew he was still there-she could hear him breathing.

"Sorry! Got distracted," Taylor's reply came a few seconds later, "So, as I was saying, well...me and Karen broke up,"

Victoria was stunned. Taylor and Karen were a great couple, and never fought-or at least Victoria thought so. Karen was a nice person-sweet, caring, and cute. But something made Victoria want to punch her in the face. Victoria wasn't exactly cute. She wasn't pretty. She wasn't built to be pretty. She didn't bother wearing makeup. She refused to wear it-she didn't want to be a sheep that only cared about looks. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't pretty. There was nothing about her that she particularly liked. Victoria didn't focus on looks. She focused on intellect. Her hair was shoulder length and dirty blonde. She had very faint freckles on her cheeks and arms. Her eyes were a silvery gray. Karen, though, was beautiful, with chocolate brown hair and vibrant green eyes. She played the saxophone-so did Taylor. She helped everybody.

Taylor must have noticed Victoria's long pause.

"Are you okay?" Taylor asked quietly. Victoria snapped out of her trance.

"Why did you guys break up? I mean, you and Karen were a perfect match," Victoria stated, clearing her throat. The words almost literally brought her physical pain.

"Karen and I got in a fight. She started yelling at me because she thought I was cheating. She said that she saw me, you, Sapheria and Thea hanging out at the movies last week and she thought I was cheating on her with one of you. I told her she got the wrong idea, but she just kept yelling at me and told me it was over."

"That's terrible," Victoria said softly. Although she hated Karen, it made her sad to hear that Taylor was so distraught. Although Thea, Sapheria, Taylor and her were hanging out, it was just to see a movie and do some homework together. She didn't see how Karen saw it as anything else. Victoria shook her head.

"Well, uh, I have to go. Sorry Taylor... I'll see ya," Victoria said softly, her words turning less clear at the end of her sentence. Her lips felt clumsy.

"See ya tomorrow then, Vict-" Victoria terminated the call before he could finish. She needed some water. Her lips felt dry and chapped her tongue dry and stiff. She rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. It clinked against the faucet as she filled it with water. She gulped it down quickly, enjoying the cold as it dripped down her throat. She set the empty glass down, swallowing air rapidly to catch her breath. She sighed, brushing her hand across her forehead. She then remembered that she should check on Abby to make sure she was sleeping.

Victoria took small steps down the hall, making the least amount of noise possible. The carpet assisted her well on this aspect. She made it to the door and opened it quietly. What she did see surprised her.

Abby was looking out the window, her fingers trying desperately to pry open the screen. Victoria gaped in confusion. Abby had said that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Obviously she didn't.

"Abby? What are you doing out of bed?" Victoria soothed softly. She didn't want to make her little sister think she was in trouble.

Abby turned around in a flash. She stood still a moment, long enough for Victoria to get a look at her little sister's face. Her eyes were glassy and pale, and blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Victoria gasped, and rushed over to Abby. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around her, and looked Abby in the eyes.

"Everything will be okay Abby," Victoria cooed as Abby started to squirm, "You look a little more sick than I thought, but I'll call the doctor and you'll be okay."

That's when Abby lunged. Her small arms tried to pull on Victoria's hair, but Victoria jerked her head back and out of Abby's reach. "Abby, calm down! Your not in trouble," Victoria's voice shook as she spoke. Abby didn't seem affected by her words. She rushed toward Victoria, her jaw snapping wildly. Victoria stood and swivelled around sharply, running toward the kitchen. Abby was right behind her, loud gurgling snarls coming from her blood-smeared mouth. Victoria turned back around when she reached the kitchen, shivering in small tremors. Abby was still rushing towards her. Victoria backed up so that she was behind the counter, a useless shield between her and her sister.

"Abby!" Victoria sobbed, her voice quaking as she watched her sister limp hurriedly around the counter.

Abby reached for Victoria, grasping her arm with cold fingers. Victoria screamed and pushed Abby, hard. Abby fell backwards.

The next moments burned themselves deep into Victoria's mind. Abby's head collided with sharp edge of the counter. An audible crack could be heard. Abby's body fell to the floor with a dull thud. Victoria put a shaking hand to her mouth. A whimper escaped her lips as she felt tears prick wildly at her eyes. She collapsed to the ground, her body wracked with grief. She reached out a tentative hand and gently closed her sister's eyelids. A pool of dark blood was under Victoria's cried out, standing up weakly. She stumbled down the hall toward her father's room and opened the door forcefully She stepped into the dark room and flipped on the light, wiping her eyes with her other sleeve.

"Dad!"

Victoria looked around a moment and saw her father in bed. He was lying ominously still. Victoria stepped closer, sniffing.

"Dad?" she said, her voice high pitched. It felt like her vocal cords had been stretch and tied up from her sobbing, "Dad?"

Her father stayed still for a few more moments before he rolled off the bed. He stood up moments later, leaning more on one leg than the other. He looked around with milky eyes until he spotted Victoria. At the sight of her, he growled.

"Oh god," Victoria's voice cracked at the sight of him. He had dead eyes, like Abby did. A mixture of blood and spit dripped from his face, "not you too."

As if in response, her father hissed and dragged himself forward. His ankle was at an odd angle, and his leg bone jutted out noticably. He must've broken it when he fell off the bed. He snapped his jaw and reached out, trying to scratch Victoria's arm. He couldn't move any father than he was already, for his leg was attached only by flesh.

Victoria set her cold stare on her father. Why? Why her? Why did she have to lose everyone in her family?

Victoria turned toward her father's bedside table. He always had his gun stored in there in case of an intruder. Victoria strode towards it and opened the drawer after unlocking it with the key her dad hid under his alarm clock. She gripped the pistol in her hands. It felt heavy and intimidating. She knew how it worked, though.

It was already loaded.

She took aim at her father's head, trying her hardest to tame the wild shivers that ran through her arms and to her hands. She closed her eyes tightly and turned her head, a single tear gliding a path down her cheek.

She pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

In the next several months that followed, the Victoria's world was chaos. She had been on the road from that day on, trying to forget and be forgotten. After her world fell apart, though, so did everyone else's. The virus spread rapidly and hit people like a brick wall. In less than a week those _things _had made it everywhere. Everywhere there were gunshots and bodies and, obviously, the living dead. Victoria called them eaters. Seemed appropriate; she couldn't go anywhere without finding one eating something that used to look like a human being.

It had been almost 18 months. Victoria tried to keep track, but time wasn't the first thing on her mind anymore. She wiped her mud-smeared forehead and looked at her watch. It had stopped working a long time ago.

A crackle echoed through the alley. Victoria's head snapped up and she turned toward the noise, gripping the knife in her pocket tightly. An eater stumbled around the corner, hissing. It searched for Victoria with one yellow eye; the other one had been replaced with an empty socket. It was covered in dried black blood. When it spotted her, it dragged itself forward. Victoria pulled the knife out of her pocket and rushed at it, pushing it over. The eater fell to the ground, and, after hesitating only a moment, tried in vain to get to its feet. Victoria angled her knife so she could stab the eater through the jaw, and pushed up. The knife made its way through the bottom jaw and into the brain stem. The eater fell limp as a stream of very dark blood trickled from the wound on its neck.

Victoria wiped the sides on the knife off on her jeans and put it back in her pocket. She turned around, and strolled down the alley. There were smears off blood everywhere on the brick walls that rose high above her. She shook her head and looked up. A building stood out at the end of the alley. The prospect of shelter seemed too good to be true. Victoria ran to the door hurriedly and grabbed the door handle, pulling eagerly.

It wouldn't budge. She tried again, using more force this time. Still didn't move. It must have been barricaded from the inside.

Victoria, in a fit of rage, stepped back a few paces and kicked the door forcefully. A burst of pain shot up her spine and stunned her for a moment, and then she fell to the ground. She groaned in pain. Her ankle had probably been badly sprained. She lied on the ground for another moment before rolling onto her stomach and, using one knee and her arms, tried to get to her feet. The gravel dug into her grimy skin, and she shook as she pulled herself up. She placed her injured foot gingerly on the ground, testing to see how much weight it could sustain. She hissed in distress as another spike of pain raced through her ankle so strong it made her dizzy. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to cope with the pain. She took one shakey step forward after another, going through back through the alley. She emerged at the end, glancing about with her hand over her eyes to shield them from the light shining off of an ice cream truck in the lot.

"God," Victoria said, bile rising in her throat when she saw the impressive pile of eaters that were around the large truck. Maybe they liked ice cream. Victoria chuckled at the thought. She checked the eaters, making sure they were _actually_ dead. Maybe there was still food in the truck? Victoria brightened at the idea. Even if it didn't have any food, it would still make great shelter for the night. She scooted an eaters body out of the way. It left some rotten flesh behind, sticking to the asphault. Victoria gagged and stepped toward the truck, groaning in pain. she finally reached the door. She scrabbled, looking for the handle.

She barely heard the shot ring out before a burning agony seared through her right shoulder.

She cried out, crumbling to the ground. Her shrill cry was strained and bloodcurdling.

A deep voice could barely be heard from behind her.

"Shit!"


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm dead. _

That was all Victoria could think as she lied on the ground, her vision dark dotted with darkness. What little of a life she was able to carve out in this world was over. She realized this might be a good thing. Maybe she could see Abby and her dad again.

Her mom.

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of seeing her mom again. Victoria had been ten when her mother had died. It was a simple hit-and-run; the person who hit Victoria's mom was never caught.

Victoria heard a voice behind her, a beautiful voice. Were the angels coming to get her? She closed her eyes, awaiting death.

A hand wrapped around her, pulling Victoria to her feet. Victoria's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was a little fuzzy, but she could see that a woman stood in front of her.

"M-Mom?" Victoria croaked. The woman in front of her seemed perplexed by this. She had short hair and wore a tank top.

Victoria giggled in hysterics, "Mom...you got a haircut. They have hair salons in heaven?"

Victoria suddenly realized that someone was still holding her up. She looked to her side and saw a tall, well-built man who gave her a "what the hell are you talking about?" expression.

Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you?" she asked, her sense returning to her. She looked back to the woman. Now that she could see, she realized that this wasn't her mother.

The short-haired woman turned to the man holding Victoria up.

"Do you think she's bitten? We can't help her if she is," she asked. Her voice was light and cautious. A frown spread across her face.

The man shook his head, "No, I don't think she's bit. We should check when we get to camp, just to be sure."

The woman nodded and turned around, walking towards the railroad tracks next to the buildings. The man next to Victoria helped her as she stumbled along. Victoria looked at these people. Who are they? Upon closer inspection, she noted that the man who was helping her had a bundle held to his chest in a black sling. Straining her neck, she saw that it was a baby, maybe eight months old.

"We need to hurry," the woman said to the man urgently.

The picked up the pace, while Victoria stumbled along painfully. She was losing blood and was getting a little dizzy.

The man seemed to notice as Victoria's steps faultered.

"Almost there," he said reassuringly, "Sorry I shot you. I thought you were a walker and I just reacted."

Victoria didn't say anything.

Finally, they came to a tent. It was close to the tracks, but not so close that you could see it easily. The man led Victoria to the tent and ushered her inside. Victoria collapsed as soon as she got in, spluttering. The woman came into the tent, kneeling down to look at Victoria. Victoria turned her eyes to the woman. Her hair was a gray and short, but a bit curly at the ends. Her face had soft curves. She was very beautiful. Victoria blinked.

"What's your name?" she mumbled quietly. She felt very tired.

"My name's Carol," the woman said as she picked up a cloth and pressed it to Victoria's shoulder. Victoria winced.

"Why are you helping me?" Victoria asked through gritted teeth. Her shoulder hurt like hell.

Carol looked Victoria in the eyes, "Tyreese shot you. He thought you were a walker," she said.

Oh, so that's what they call eaters. Victoria got the idea. She also understood why she looked like an eater; she had been wiping her knife off on her clothes, and hadn't even tried to keep herself clean. Victoria closed her eyes.

Carol grabbed a first aid kit that had been tucked in the tent corner and flipped open the lid. She grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some cotton balls. She looked a Victoria as she dabbed a cotton ball into the bottle, "This is going to hurt," she warned her.

Carol moved the soaked cloth off of Victoria's shoulder and pressed the ball of cotton against the wound. Victoria whimpered as a searing burn sensation spread throughout her whole body.

Carol, after cleaning out the wound, opened the first aid kit again. This time, she grabbed tweezers. She scooted forward and carefully pushed the tweezers into the wound, searching for the bullet.

Victoria screamed. The pain was so terrible that she couldn't think.

She could still feel Carol searching the wound for the bullet. Victoria heard Carol let out a sigh of relief and the clink of metal against the bottom of the tent. The pain was still there, but a little less severe.

The tent rustled as the man-Tyreese, apparently-crawled into the tent. He was still carrying the baby bundled against his chest, rocking it gently.

"I heard screaming. Is she okay?" Tyreese asked Carol worriedly. His eyes were dark brown and matched his skin. His eyes shone with concern, and he was sweating. Victoria's eyes were half closed with exhaustion and she could only feel pain coming from her shoulder, so she decided not to reassure him.

Carol nodded, "I got the bullet out and the bleeding has stopped. She should be fine."

Victoria noticed the stress she put on the word should. She sighed painfully and relaxed her muscles. She almost chuckled when she realized that this is the best place she had been in days, excluding the hole in her shoulder on the throb coming from her ankle.

Rustles followed by silence indicated that Carol and Tyreese had left Victoria to rest. Taking advantage of this, Victoria's world started fading away, and eventually disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I took a break from writing this story, but I think this chapter is better than the other ones. Working on my other story proved as a good break from this. I hope you guys like this chapter! **

When Victoria mind flickered on, it took much persuasion to pry her eyelids open. She was curled on her side in a fetal position, her injured shoulder pressed against the green tent floor. Victoria groaned and rolled onto her back, touching her shoulder tentatively. Her finger brushed against the bandage on her shoulder. It was beside her neck, right above her collarbone. Although covered, it was still tender to the touch and fire shot through the area whenever it brushed against anything.

_That's just great._ She thought. _So freakin' great._

She sat up drowsily, carefully aware of her shoulder as to not bump it against something. Grabbing the edge of the tent, she hoisted herself to her feet. As soon as she did, she regretted it. Her ankle sent a sharp jolt of pain through her body, and she collapsed in the tent. She let out a noise something like a growl and looked down at her ankle. Her shoes were still on, as worn and broken as they were, and she reached down to pull it off. The second her fingers brushed the edge of her shoe to rid of it, the tent flap flew open. Victoria jumped, and looked up only to find a pistol staring her right in the face.

_I'm not scared of guns._ Victoria thought desperately as she stared down into the dark black pit that was in the muzzle of the gun. Right as she was about to slap the gun away from her face, it disappeared. Tyreese looked at her apologetically as he tucked the pistol back into his belt.

"Well," Victoria greeted sarcastically, "good morning to you, too."

"Sorry, thought you were a walker. Heard you growl. I thought maybe you'd have turned over night or something," Tyreese admitted in a sigh.

"You sound hopeful," Victoria laughed for the first time in more than a year.

Tyreese rolled his eyes, barely containing a chuckle, "Come on out of that tent. Carol made breakfast - I hope you like beans."

Victoria looked down at her foot.

"That might be a problem. I'm pretty sure I sprained my ankle kicking a door," Victoria winced as she rubbed her ankle.

"Wow. That was stupid. Get up and lean on me, I'll help you," Tyreese offered as he leaned down, grabbing Victoria's arm and pulling her to her feet. He held onto her and led her outside to where Carol was sitting on a log, ladling beans into styrofoam bowls with a plastic spoon. The scent was heavenly. She looked up and handed Tyreese a bowl after he led Victoria to the log and let go of her arm. Carol looked at Victoria and passed her another bowl, which was filled to almost to the brim. Victoria looked at it in shock; she hadn't even _seen _this much food in a very long time, much less eaten it.

Victoria felt like she should say something. Tell them that she couldn't possibly except this; she didn't want to be a drain on their resources. But she had already downed half the bowl before the thought even crossed her mind. She looked up when she heard Carol's amused laugh.

"I thought you would like some food, but I didn't think you would like it_ this _much," Carol barely managed to laugh out the words.

Victoria rolled her eyes and continued eating sloppily.

"So, how long has it been since you've eaten?" Carol asked, suddenly serious. Victoria looked up at the sky, deep in thought.

"I-I don't remember," she answered with a sigh. The last thing she wanted was these people's pity, but she didn't want to lie.

Carol gently took the bowl away from Victoria, and, although Victoria was grateful to get any food at all, she was confused.

Carol explained quickly, "We can't give you so much food after you have had none for a while. You'd get sick."

Victoria nodded glumly, still tasting the beans in her mouth. In an earlier time, those beans probably would've been bland and tasteless, but given the circumstances, Victoria couldn't think of anything that had ever tasted better.

Carol attempted to give the rest of Victoria's food to Tyreese, but he declined. He told Carol that she should have it.

_Weird_, Victoria thought,_ I didn't see Carol get herself a bowl_. Carol reluctantly ate the meager amount of beans, and paused a moment before smiling at Victoria.

"So, stranger, what's your name?" the woman asked curiously. Victoria realized that she had spent a whole night and morning with people who didn't even know what to call her.

"Victoria," she answered simply, but paused a moment as a tear pricked at her eye, "...but my little sister called me Tori."

Carol seemed to understand that this was a tender subject and dropped it immediately, "So, you like my cooking? Beans are my specialty," she looked off into space for a moment, "and squirrel."

Victoria scrunched her nose, imagining what squirrel would taste like. She didn't think she could ever eat one. She remembered one time when she was five when she had caught a squirrel at the park in a cardboard box. She had taken it home and played with it, and even had given it a name that she now couldn't remember. Her mother had found out and was very angry, saying that squirrels had rabies and could make her sick. They ended up setting the squirrel free in the park.

"Squirrel? Gross. Why would you guys eat squirrel?" Victoria asked in a disapproving tone, her nose still scrunched.

"Have you ever tried squirrel? It's delicious!" Carol answered protectively, "I know some people might judge it before they try it just because of what it is, but after you do, squirrel is the best damn food on the entire planet."

Judging by the over-explanation and the tone of Carol's voice, Victoria knew there was a hidden meaning behind those words. As curious as she is, she pestered Carol with more questions.

"So," Victoria asked, "are you two - I mean three - by yourselves?"

Carol opened her mouth as if to say something, but ended up closing it with a sigh. Tyreese spoke up after finally finishing his bowl of beans.

"It's a long story, but to sum it up, we aren't sure if the rest of our group is alive or dead," he answered with his eyes downcast.

Victoria frowned, "Oh. That must be terrible."

Carol nodded solemnly as she put the bowls back into the small backpack she had leaning against the log she was sitting on.

"Did you have a group?" Carol asked finally after a long, awkward pause.

Victoria shook her head subtly, "Nope. Actually, you two are the first people I've seen in..." the teenager paused a moment, "well, how long has this been going on? I've counted fourteen months, but I'm probably off."

Carol muttered under her breath, counting lengths of time at places Victoria didn't recognize.

"Almost two years," Carol answered finally.

"Damn, I haven't seen any people except you for almost two whole years!" Victoria laughed.

"That must've made you go insane," Tyreese sympathized, his eyebrows creased in concern.

Victoria smirked, "Maybe just a tad."

Tyreese chuckled a bit, but his mood quickly changed.

"So, how many walkers have you killed?" he asked seriously.

Victoria stopped laughing and looked at her hands, deep in thought, "I have no idea. More than I can count," she answered, but added boastfully with a proud smirk, "Which is a lot, because I am a goddamn genius."

Both Tyreese and Carol laughed quietly.

"So, uh," Tyreese continued his questioning after he cleared his throat, "how many people have you killed?"

Victoria's face fell into a deep frown. Her sister and her dad flashed through her mind, and guilt squeezed her stomach.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Even though they weren't human when she had killed them, she felt like a murderer. Every time she saw an eater - or walker, as Carol and Tyreese called them - she would secretly hope that it would get her so that the guilt and pain would end. But instinct would get the best of her and she wouldn't give up.

"Technically, I guess, I haven't killed anyone," Victoria was going to say more but her throat swell up and she thought if she said anything else she would cry. Her eyes were glistening but she wouldn't let the tears fall.

Tyreese didn't notice these signs and continued his questions, "What do you mean 'technically' and 'you guess'?"

Carol sent him a glare that read as '_shut the fuck up before she cries_' and she rubbed Victoria's back gently.

Victoria pushed Carol's hand away and cleared her throat, "What I mean is that on the first day, my sister turned. I accidentally pushed her against a counter after she chased me and tried to bite me. She died," Victoria stopped for a second. Her sister had already died and turned, so what is it called when you kill them after that? Victoria continued, settling for the obvious, "again. Then my dad did. He couldn't move as a walker because his foot was broken and stuck, so he was harmless. But...I couldn't see him like that. I just couldn't. So I shot him in the head. I know they weren't people when I killed them, but it felt like it to me."

Tyreese and Carol were silent for several minutes.

"How old was your sister?" Carol eventually managed as a barely audible whisper.

"Six," Victoria lost control and a tear slipped onto her cheek. Carol gave a slight nod and continued to study the ground.

Tyreese shook his head, dismayed at himself. "I'm sorry, Victoria. I didn't mean to upset you."

Victoria gave a sharp laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, "You sound like your scared I'll scold you or something."

Tyreese rolled his eyes sarcastically and a half-hearted smile etched onto his face. Victoria was about to comment when the chaotic jangling of cans caused her eyebrows to rise in confusion.

"What the hell?" she asked as Carol and Tyreese sprang to their feet. A dull growl sounded from the trees surrounding the small camp. It sounded close.

_Oh_, Victoria realized, _it's an alarm system_.

She reached down in her pocket to grab her knife, but nothing was there. She fumbled in her other pocket as a walker stumbled into the clearing, followed by another. The pair looked long-dead, one of which had half of its face and torso eaten off. The other was missing and arm and had a bite-mark on its neck. Both had rotten skin that appeared to be peeling off, and blood smeared their faces. Carol rushed at one of them with a knife while Tyreese pushed the other down and crushed it's head with a rock.

Victoria gave up her search to find her knife and ran toward Carol, who had just fished her own knife from the walker's head.

"Where's my knife?!" Victoria demanded angrily, her face contorted in rage.

Carol held up the knife that was grasped delicately in her fingers. Victoria reached out for it and plucked it from Carol's fingers. Upon closer inspection, Victoria realized that this was her own knife, and not Carol's. She wiped it off and put it in her pocket. Carol's head suddenly whipped around towards Tyreese and shouted, "Behind you!"

Tyreese had been doubled over, panting, when a walker had creeped up behind him.

Victoria rushed towards the man who was shoving the walker away from him, trying in a vain effort to escape. The walker's jaws snapped dangerously close to Tyreese's neck.

Victoria kicked the walker in the head, and it tumbled off of Tyreese. It tried to grab her boot in its rotten fingers, but it missed and fell onto its back. Victoria lifted her leg high and smashed her heel against its face, which exploded into a mess of blood and brains. Victoria repeated the same action, grunting angrily as what was left of its skull shattered into the grass.

She sighed and rubbed her boot on the grass, leaving smears of red and small chunks of pinkish-gray brain stuck against the grass blades.

Carol placed a hand on her forehead, and suggested quietly, "We should leave now. We were planning to leave anyway, Tyreese, and the sooner we get there the better."

Carol got up and walked towards the tent where the baby was sleeping soundly.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, "Get where?" she asked Tyreese curiously.

"Terminus," Tyreese answered, his eyebrows knit,"Haven't you seen the signs for it?"

Victoria nodded and rolled her eyes, "You know, I have seen those signs, but I think what they are offering is bullshit."

Tyreese smiled, "Us too, but we saw this sign that Maggie, one of our group members, left for Glenn, her husband, telling him to go to Terminus. So we at least know that Maggie's there."

They were quiet and watched the tent Carol was in for a few minutes.

Carol ducked out of the green tent opposite of the one Victoria had recovered in, clutching a bundle tightly to her chest.

"Judy was really quiet. I got worried, but she is fine," Carol reassured Tyreese, "I just fed her a bottle, so we should leave now."

She looked at Victoria intently.

"Do want to come with us?"


End file.
